


The Game

by emmygranger95



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I Blame Tumblr, Work In Progress, bare with me pls, i can't remember why i wrote this in Y/N format but im too far in to change it now, i wrote this so long ago but i'm just now posting it here, stephanie's AU death is a plot device im sorry, the first four parts will be up soon but who knows when i'll update lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 17:25:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15124322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmygranger95/pseuds/emmygranger95
Summary: NXT Takeover R Evolution. Kevin Owens and [Y/N] are set to debut, and Sami’s working towards a championship. But tonight is the night that everything changes. For you, Sami, Kevin… and Hunter as well.





	1. R Evolution

**Author's Note:**

> It had been nearly twenty years since Stephanie’s death. The day after, Hunter had retired from the ring, and spent the rest of his days in the wrestling industry working behind the scenes with Vince.
> 
> Or so he thought.

It was the December of 2014, and you and Kevin Owens were set to debut at NXT: R Evolution.

Behind the scenes, your long-time friend Sami Zayn sat next to you, not at all nervous. Your leg shook up and down, hoping to shake away the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I believe in you.”

You scoffed at his gesture, instantly regretting doing so. You placed your hand over Sami’s, giving him a weak smile. “Sorry, it’s just all very much for me.”

As you were about to speak again, a shadow appeared in front of the two of you, dark and brooding.

“Mr. Helmsley,” you stood, bright smile breaking across your face. The boss was here, dressed in a dark grey tailored suit and baby blue tie. You held your hand out for him, noticing how your back went straight and your posture changed dramatically in his presence. You hoped you weren’t being too fake, honestly.

“[Y/N], please, it’s Hunter,” he took your hand, giving it a firm shake and cupping it with both hands. “Big night for you.”

“Yeah, yes it is,” you couldn’t help the grin on your face. As easy as it was to change yourself in front of him, he always brought you back down to earth, to the matter at hand, swiftly and without pain. “I hope I don’t let the crowd down. Or you, of course.”

“Don’t worry about the crowd,” he chuckled, “and definitely don’t worry about me. As long as you can make yourself proud, it’s all I can ask.”

He still hadn’t let go of your hand. He lingered on it, until you broke into a smile again and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Hunter gave you a stern look, turning to face Sami, who had been silently observing your encounter from the bench. There was a strange, knowing look to Sami that made you wonder what he was contemplating. He looked up in time for Hunter to hold out his hand and receive it.

“The man of the hour!” Hunter pulled Sami in for a hug, clapped him on the back.

“Hey, Hunter. Good to see you, man.”

As they pulled away from each other, one of the backstage hands came and announced that your match was about to start. You looked back one more time at Sami to wish him good luck, hoping he’d wish it to you again, too, only to find him engaged in a conversation with Hunter that you couldn’t even begin to hear as you were led away to gorilla.

*********

The roar of the NXT crowd rang in your ears, nearly drowning out the thud of the referee’s counts on the mat.

“ONE. TWO. THREE!”

The bell rang, drowned out quickly by the drone of the crowd. Chest heaving, legs nearly buckling beneath you, you stood, the ref taking your hand and lifting your fist in the air in triumph.

Your opponent was still facedown on the mat. When the cheers died down, you kneeled next to her, pulling a strand of her bright colored hair back behind her ear. Your mouth leaned close, whispered in her ear something incomprehensible, leaving it to the audience to interpret what you’d said through your actions.

You stood back up, a mischievous smirk on your face, and your music hit, the deep bass ominously ringing through the small arena. You slinked out beneath the bottom rope, careful to keep the same expression on your face. You shook your hair across one shoulder, gave the crowd a wink, and slithered away.

Behind the curtain, Sami and Kevin were waiting, broad smiles on their faces.

“Honestly, not quite sure how we’re gonna top that,” Sami embraced you, ruffled your hair.

Kevin scoffed. “Okay, not sure if you were _that_ good, but you did a great job out there, [Y/N].”

You gave him a joking death glare, and pulled slightly back from your hug with Sami, looking at him seriously. “What does that say about you, knowing your two best friends are heels?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, thinking. “Not sure. Maybe I just see the good in everyone, even if they’re assholes.”

“Hey!” You and Kevin interjected simultaneously, a grin breaking on Sami’s face.

“I kind of regret you finding out about Kevin, though. I would’ve loved to have seen your reaction.”

“Are you kidding? That was the most predictable shit I ever-”

Sami touched your elbow, signaling for you to shut the hell up.

“Bad mouthing creative already, are we?” His voice sent shivers down your spine.

You turned around, a defensive measure already on the tip of your tongue. “Well, I-”

“I’m just joking around. Congratulations on your match, by the way. I have to hand it to you, you really pulled it off.”

“That’s…really great, coming from you.” He pulled you in for a hug, and you were amazed to find that he was extremely fit for his age. His suit did nothing to mask the body that wore it; you could feel his strong muscles rippling underneath.

“But did you make yourself proud? Remember, I told you that’s what matters.”

You thought about it, nose twitching in contemplation. “I’d say I did a pretty damn good job.

He raised a brow, intrigued. "Cocky looks good on a woman. You know,” he said, arms crossing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “you remind me of someone.”

“Who’s that?” You asked, curious. Behind you, Kevin looked confused, wondering as well. Sami was quiet, blank as he stared at the floor, his expression unreadable even if you had seen it.

Hunter’s brows furrowed, and the shadow of a smile appeared across his lips. “Just…someone.”

And he walked off, very unprofessional-like.

You turned back around to Sami, not at all surprised to find Kevin gone as his music hit in the arena. Sami, however, was deep in thought.

“You’re not worried about your match with Neville, are you?”

“Hm?” He answered, clearly distracted. “Oh, um, no.”

You gave him a smirk. “Then what is it?” You poked him.

“It’s-it’s nothing,” he waved you off, “really.”

“Come on!” You eyed him doubtfully.

“You’re going to think I’m insane.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a hard stare. “Try me.”

He let out a breath. “All right then.” He took a sip of his water bottle. You would think he would be worried about his match right about now. That was usually when he got the jitters, a mere hour before the match. Sami could spend the entire week preparing mentally, physically. To the point where he closed his eyes and had it all masterfully planned out, mapped perfectly in his brain and engrained beneath his eyelids.

But this was different. Something had him on edge that you couldn’t understand.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

_What?_

*********

Hunter had been walking down the hallway, back towards you and Sami. He was going to pitch something to you, an idea for your storyline.

He was ecstatic. He figured with this new plan, both of you would have more time to speak, more reason to interact. He wasn’t sure if you had felt what he felt every time you stood in each other’s presence, but he wanted to test it out.

_I think I’m in love with you._

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard that, a feeling of anxiety overwhelming him that he couldn’t comprehend. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time.

_I love you. And I know we’ve been friends for what feels like our entire lives, but I had to say it._

_Why?_

_I don’t know. Just felt like the right time._

Hunter stood there, around the corner, listening intently. It was stupid, he knew. And not at all professional. In fact, he felt like a little kid doing it, he wanted to leave, but he couldn’t bare it. He had to know how this played out, the fire in his gut unwilling to let him slip away.

It was maddening.

_Sami, I don’t know what to say._

_That’s fine. You don-you don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you._

_Sami, I-_

Just then, a backstage hand appeared, calling out for Hunter. Both you and Sami whirled around, confused because Hunter was nowhere in sight.

The crew member went straight to Hunter, rounding the corner and telling him that he was needed in the tech van.

His unusually gruff voice answered, and your stomach clenched. Had he heard everything? You certainly hoped not.

You looked to Sami, who was just as confused. He shrugged.

*********

“[Y/N], can I see you in my office, please?”

“Sure thing, Hunter. I’ll be right there.”

You hung up the phone, a steady power walk to his makeshift office leading you through the university arena’s hallways.

It had been more than two weeks since Sami’s championship title win and your debut. Sami was out, spending time with his family in Canada, and you hadn’t seen him since the day after his win, when you were saying goodbye as he caught his plane. It was awkward, and not a moment you were proud of. You quickly shook off the feeling of nervousness, that cold sweat you’d gotten when he hugged you coming back now. You couldn’t afford to be nervous in Hunter’s presence, even if it was an old, lingering feeling.

It was shameful, how you’d acted. Cold, distant. Afraid.

_I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. I’m asking for a chance._

_I don’t know if I can give you that chance._

The look of hurt that passed by Sami’s face, just for that fraction of a second where he wasn’t paying attention to his features, it was enough to break your damn heart. It was gone as soon as it came, disappearing under his mesmerizing smile. And it hurt you all the more that he masked his pain.

Where once his embrace had been the most comforting, it became the most unbearable. And it was your fault.

So much for trying to shake the feeling, you thought, the door to Hunter’s office looming in front of you now, that gut-wrenching regret eating at your insides. Of all the moments to feed off that horrible memory, and you chose right now.

 _Fuck,_ you thought, _here goes nothing._

“Hey, [Y/N], how are you?” He motioned for you to sit in the seat opposite him.

“I’m doin’ all right, Hunter. You?”

“Fine, fine. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

 _Oh, boy,_ you thought. _Please don’t let it be about Sami._ All of this was even worse, knowing Hunter had heard Sami’s confession. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, so you were hoping he really had just been walking by and hadn’t heard a thing.

His brown eyes bore into you, assuring himself that you were paying attention. You tried your best to look as attentive as possible, but you couldn’t shake Sami from your mind.

“Are you okay?” He asked, hands together in front of him on the desk. “You seem a little out of sorts.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, not wanting to talk about it. “Really.” You flashed Hunter a smile.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He eyed you curiously, doubtful. But after a couple seconds, he figured it best to let your strange behavior go. He got to the point. “I have a storyline proposition for you.”

Your brow arched. “Really? What is it?” You could feel your body slowing becoming more enthusiastic, your mind slowly drawing back to the matter at hand, the ugly thoughts of Sami’s departure slowly trickling away as you looked at Hunter’s eager face.

“We were thinking a storyline where you were romantically involved with someone.”

If you had been drinking something, this would’ve been the perfect moment to spit it out. As it was, you had no beverage, so you made do by looking shocked and remaining silent. Hunter seemed to be awaiting some sort of response.

“We were going to pair you with Kevin, make you this sort of heel powerhouse, but he’s already set with his own betrayal storyline with him and Sami. We don’t want to put too much on anyone’s plate, but the other heel wrestlers don’t really seem like a good fit. Baron, possibly, or even -”

“I don’t really feel comfortable doing that. With any of them, I mean.”

Hunter eyed you cautiously, begging the question, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know them very well. I just got here. Maybe someone else, that I had more chemistry with.”

“I’d say Sami, but he’s a face, unfortunately.”

Your stomach dropped. “Not Sami.” Your voice was firm, unquestionable. As if to defend your statement, or even to answer the probable follow-up of why, you said, “He’s my friend. I don’t want to make it awkward.” As if it wasn’t awkward already.

You couldn’t prove it, but you swore you saw a flash of relief cross Hunter’s face, though you had no idea why.

He seemed deep in thought for a minute. For a brief moment, his face lit up, as if he’d had an idea. You waited impatiently, wondering what he could have possibly thought.

“What if it’s a romance with someone outside of the ring?”

“What? You mean like Regal? He’s married, isn’t he? Doesn’t the entire audience know he’s married?” You shrugged, “not that I mind being a mistress, I could do the whole mistress angle, but it’s a little less believable when it’s done in front of a live crowd, right? Maybe that’s a little too complicated.”

His index finger pointed slightly in front of him, as if he was wagging his digit to some invisible object in front of him. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, engineering this complex idea. You sat, amazed, and realized now why they called him The Game. He was the master, and each and every wrestler, interviewer, or other on-screen personas were his chess pieces.

“What if your love interest is me?”


	2. Gentille Alouette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath in the following weeks after Takeover. Hunter is making moves.

“Tell me you didn’t say that.”

“Ugh, I did!”

Kevin looked at you like you were fucking insane. “Are you fucking insane?”

You hid your face between your hands. “I know, I was an asshole, I know!”

“No, you don’t fucking know. How could you just brush him off like that?”

It was frustrating, that question. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you weren’t entirely sure why you’d done it.

Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens had been your best friends for nigh on fifteen-ish years. All three of you had started wrestling about the same time, in different places, and had met in the same wrestling promotion. You remembered the night you and Kevin had first seen Sami wrestle. You remembered the moment when Kevin and Sami first wrestled. And you remembered the taste of the milkshakes the three of you had nights after, after meeting each other all for the first time outside of work. Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry. A regular Neapolitan blend. You didn’t share, and the other two were positively disappointed with you. You had nearly fallen off your stool from laughter.

You had clicked with them easily. Sami brought out the goodness in you, he always had. And Kevin had always been the one to help you in anything, any problem and situation that needed fixing. Call him a bastard in the ring, but outside of it he was a sweet man with a heart of gold that just wanted to make sure you were on the right track.

And that’s why you had come to him, now. That’s why you were sitting in a vacant training room in the performance center, hastily whispering, begging for his help.

But you should have known this topic wasn’t going to be easy. Sami was the one topic in the world that you wouldn’t get an unbiased viewpoint for.

“I didn’t brush him off, I just-”

“Then what was it?” His tone was sharp as a dagger. It was beginning to grind away at your very soul. “Huh? Because it sounds an awful lot like you didn’t even bother to think about it before you rejected him.”

“I was fucking scared, okay?” Your hands left your face, tensely dropping at your sides in emphasis.

His eyes narrowed, squinting at you. “Of what? Of Sami Zayn? The heart and soul of any wrestling promotion he’s ever been a part of? The kindest fucking human being that’s ever walked the fucking earth? I don’t understand what the hell you could possibly be afraid of, [Y/N].” He crossed his arms, disgusted. “There are fluffy bunnies with more evil in their hearts than Sami Zayn.”

If his plan was to snap your heart in two, Kevin had accomplished it. If his plan was to make you feel like absolute shit for what you’d done, he accomplished that, too. But it wasn’t.

He sighed. He could see it, the guilt on your face, the remorse in your eyes. The tears that begged to fall.

“No, don’t. Don’t cry.” His tone was softer now as he reached for you, wrapping his arms around you to make you feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” you bawled. “But I didn’t know what to say.” Your breathing was erratic, sharp intakes of breath followed release in quick succession. “I figured…if…it wasn’t…immediate…that maybe I didn’t…love him…like he loves me.” Your words were sticky with snot.

“Fuck, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s fine.” Kevin’s hands reached to stroke your hair, tucking your head under his chin. Quietly, he began to hum, and you could feel every vibration at the top of your head, the French lullaby soothing you slowly.

_Alouette, gentille alouette  
Alouette, je te plumerai…_

You did your best to control your breathing allowing the humming to lull you into relaxation. His singing reminded you of home, even if it was thousands of miles away.

_je te plumerai la tête_

_et la tête_

_et la tête_

_alouette_

_alouette,_

_oh…_

“You okay?” Kevin asked finally, dipping his head to look at your face.

You nodded, looking for something to wipe your nose with. Finding nothing, you slumped your shoulders in disappointment, already feeling the embarrassment of your situation reddening your cheeks and causing fresh tears to pool at your eyes.

Kevin stroked your cheek softly, wiping at your eyes. Then, showing mild annoyance, he rolled his eyes and pointed at his sleeve, indicating you wipe your nose on it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, tugging at his sleeve.

“Yeah, don’t mention it, seriously.” He looked away as you soiled his sleeve, more expressions of disgust visible on his face.

“When does he get back?” You asked.

Kevin thought about it for a minute. “Next week, I think.” He looked solemnly at you. “He called me this morning, you know. Asked me how you were doing.”

“What’d you say to him?” You probed curiously, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Said you were fine.” He leaned back, sat down on the table next to them. “To be honest, I didn’t know. About any of this.”

Your eyes widened in silent shock. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No, he didn’t. And neither did you, for that matter, _best friend.”_

You ignored the jab, though it stung. “He tells you everything.”

“Yeah, well, not this time. Even more reason to think that it’s affecting him badly.”

You bit your bottom lip in frustration. “Kevin, what should I do?”

He sat there, deep in thought. It was a pitiful situation, honestly. You didn’t want to hurt Sami’s feelings, but you also couldn’t reciprocate something you didn’t feel.

“Depends on what you want. I can’t help you fix it unless I know exactly what I’m fixing.”

“I just want everything to go back to the way it was.”

Kevin sighed. “That’s not gonna happen, sweetheart.”

“Well…” you whimpered, “I just want him to know I still care for him. I can’t give him what he wants, but I want us to be okay. I hope he can understand that.” Your words caught in your throat with every sharp inhale and exhale of breath.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, [Y/N],” Kevin said, “everything’s gonna be all right.” He reached out to squeeze your hand, if but for a brief moment, letting his assurance comfort you.

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s Sami Zayn. He loves you and he won’t hurt you.” He gave you a crooked smile. “Just give him time. D'accord?”

Your smile was faint, but genuine. “D'accord.”

The next night was NXT. You had a match that you’d win, and then Hunter was set to “appear” backstage, with a congratulations to you on doing so well your first few weeks after your debut. You were going to thank him, put a hand on his shoulder in flirtation and twirl your hair. And Corey, bless his heart, was going to notice. He was going to point it out, talk about how this was all a game with you. You wanted in on the women’s title, and you were going to use whatever means it took to get there. The insinuation was TV-14 at best, so it was good that NXT was only on the network.

Everything went as planned. After the segment, Murphy and Blake had a match with the Lucha Dragons, and then Sami showed up on the screen, a video to his fans about how he was doing and when he’d be coming back. You watched him, that sad little smile apparent on his face. You wondered if it was all just for show, if he was doing it because he was “thinking” about what Kevin “did” to him, or if it was because of what you did. Either way, it was enough to make you feel regret. How could you do this to him?

After watching the end of the show, you stood up and opened your locker, changing out of your ring gear. Charlotte, Becky, Sasha, Bayley. They all came barging into the locker room, afury with hushed, giggling whispers. As you pulled your t-shirt over your head, you gave them a questioning look. “What’s all the giggling about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sasha sang nonchalantly as she opened her locker, “just that Hunter’s invited us all to go out for drinks!”

“Really?” You shot her and the girls a quizzical eyebrow raise. He was taking the four horsewomen out to the bar? Hm.

“Mhm,” Bayley added, “he wants to take us out for drinks because he thinks we’re all doing a great job.”

Charlotte winked at you coyly. “Yeah, that’s why he wants to take us out for drinks.”

You shook your head, trying your best to hide your face from her. “Well, have fun you guys. Don’t get too drunk in front of the boss.”

Becky laughed at you from her seat on the bench, legs spread apart, raising a towel to her neck. “One, I’m Irish, so I don’t get drunk. Two,” she said, holding up two fingers, “you’re comin’ too. Emma as well.”

“And me?” Emma asked from behind you. She had been quietly sitting in the background. “Sounds good.”

You turned back to Becky, pointing at yourself. “He invited me?” Your heart skipped a couple beats at the thought.

Bayley smiled. “Yes, of course. You’re part of the women’s revolution too, ya know.”

You looked down, hiding a grin. “All right, then, guess we’re all going. I’ll meet you guys there?”

Sasha came up behind you, hands on your shoulders. “No the heck you won’t. We’re gonna shower and then dress up, do make up, everything. Bayley is amazing at it.”

Bayley blushed, the compliment too much for her. “Stop it, Sasha.”

“What? I’m just telling the truth.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, ew. Get a room.”

Alexa walked in, with the same news and the same excitement in her voice. “Guys, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“You know it, sister,” Becky said as she high fived her. “Now let’s get the show on the road.”

At around ten o’clock, you and the girls climbed out of a limo, giggling and laughing as Becky got to the punchline of a very punny joke. The line to the club was long, but it didn’t matter. The bouncer recognized you all immediately, letting you in.

“Hey, girls, good job tonight.”

“Thanks, Freddy! Always our number one fan.”

“Don’t you know it.”

“Thanks, Fred! We love you!”

“Any time, ladies.”

You and the girls made your way through the club, nearly losing track of each other in the mass of dancing, sweaty bodies. The lights flashed, the mob clearly visible in minute heartbeats of color. You followed the girls up the winding stairs to the second floor, VIP, pushing past already drunk couples tripping down the steps as they were negated entry. Another bouncer, another charming, familiar face.

“How y’all doin’, mijitas?” His stare kept on Becky for a good five seconds longer than everyone else.

“Exhausted but glad to be out! You?” Becky conversed with him, twirling a strand of hair and giving him a wink.

“Ready for this shift to end. Y’all be careful. Lotta vagabundos out tonight.”

“Amen to that, you too, Eduardo.”

“See ya, chicas.”

He lifted the rope for you all to pass. When Becky was out of earshot, she came and flanked you, placed her hand to your ear. “Ed could get it, no question.”

You grinned, looking back to where Eduardo stood, hands behind his back, dressed in an all black suit and tie. Hair gelled back, stubble lining his chiseled jaw. “Yeah, he could,” came your reply, to the dismay of Becky.

“Keep your hands to yourself, woman, that’s my man!”

You put your hand to your mouth, covering your sudden burst of laughter. “I’m kidding, Bex, he’s all yours.”

You stopped when you saw the rest of the girls had already made it to their table, Hunter kissing each of them on the cheek in greeting.

Damn, he looks good, you thought, earning yourself a good mental smack. He was dressed formally, a different suit from the one he wore to the show tonight, yet it felt like his sexiness was bursting through the roof. The top buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned, and you could see the tan skin and blondish hairs of his chest. His suit jacket was slung across the side of the booth, you noticed. Casual, friendly, yet sophisticated. God, this man was too much.

“[Y/N], nice to see you out and about.”

When he got to you, you froze for a second, heart beating slightly faster. What the fuck was this? How was he doing this to you? You shook the thoughts away, leaning forward to receive your kiss on the cheek in greeting. When you pulled back from the hug and kiss, he held your hand for what seemed like minutes longer than the rest of them, gaze holding your own, until he suddenly let go and called for a waiter to order drinks. Maybe you were just imagining the lapse of time. It can’t have been longer than a few seconds.

You sat down next to Emma, who cocked an eyebrow at you, but said nothing. All of you sat there, chattering amongst yourselves, Becky with Charlotte, Sasha and Bayley with Hunter, you and Emma and Alexa, content to just be away from work. When the drinks arrived, Sasha downed hers in seconds, waiting for Charlotte to do the same so that they could finally go down to the dance floor. Sasha stood up, grabbed Charlotte’s hand and winked at her flirtatiously, with remarks from Bayley and Becky begging them to “get a room!” to the giggles of the other girls who had been in the locker room earlier that night. Hunter, confused, watched them from behind his glass of Jack Daniels, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“All right, get up, you two,” Becky said, motioning Bayley and Emma to follow her lead. “Looks like Ed’s shift is over and I want to convince him to stay for a dance. I need my wing women.”

“Oh,” you said, shifting to move, “let me g-”

“No, you sit your sweet little arse down for two more drinks at least. I don’t want you near my man, and Bayley’s got ya covered, she needs to learn how to be a wing woman, anyhow.” You looked to Bayley, who smiled to hide how nervous she was. You gave her a thumbs up and a wink, wishing her luck as she trailed behind Emma and Bex. As they left, you could hear Emma asking, “and what makes you think I won’t steal your man from under you as well?”

Shaking your head, you turned to face Alexa, only to find that she was gone, flirting with a man in a corner of the VIP lounge. The only other person left, you realized with a jolt of your stomach, was Hunter.

“Heya, Hunter.”

“[Y/N]. You’re not gonna leave me by myself, too, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” you smiled confidently, taking a sip of Alexa’s pink drink, though deep down you were positively brimming with anxiety. “How are you?”

He scoffed, taken aback by the question. One hand grazed his jaw, thinking it over. “It’s funny, no one really asks me that.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Why’s that?”

He looked intently into your eyes. “I’m your boss. Your superior. In most cases, people only ever ask ‘how are you’ in passing, but no one expects a real answer.” A smirk played on his lips. “But you sound genuine. Like you actually want to know.”

“Well, I do want to know.”

He chuckled in response. “I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

You looked at him, studied the face hard from years of working under the guise of corporate professionalism. The feared Triple H. The Game. The King of Kings. As a younger woman, you remembered what he was like when his career was just inside a twenty by twenty. He was hot stuff, the next big thing after Stone Cold Steve Austin. But weirdly enough, you could never remember the last time you saw him looking happy.

As in, actually happy. Not just the professionally friendly face he showed all of you as your boss.

The wrinkles between his eyebrows gave away too much, even if his face remained stoic and his body was like that of a demigod. “You’re lying.”

You don’t know what made you say that. Accusing your boss of lying. What a way to close every door door of opportunity that might have been available to you, had you just kept your mouth shut.

Instead of getting you fired immediately on the spot, Hunter just looked at you, a casual smirk visible for a moment. “You’re right,” he peered down at his drink, lifted it to his lips, “I am.”

So he was unhappy. Regardless of his NXT slowly becoming the most loved and most innovative brand on the WWE, he was unsatisfied. You wondered, sadly, what had happened to his soul. There was something there, something that you couldn’t recall even though you dug through the deepest recesses of your adolescent memories to find it.

You shook the thoughts away. Whatever it was, it would come to you later. Beating yourself up about it now would do no good. You grabbed another one of the girls’ unfinished drinks and downed it in one gulp, set the glass down, admiring how awfully disgusting it was as you squinted and pursed your lips. The liquid burned through your veins quickly, and it wasn’t long before you began to feel a euphoric buzz.

It was then you realized it wasn’t just your head that was buzzing. You looked down at your phone, gut wrenching in panic and disbelief as you read the caller ID: SAMI ZAYN.

He was calling you. But it wasn’t the right time. Not when you were already closing in on inebriated. You ignored it, every fiber of your being rationalizing the move as logical, placing your phone back in your jacket pocket.

“That was absolutely disgusting. Come dance with me.”

“Excuse me?” Hunter’s voice bordered on astonished, his eyes admiring you in respect at your strange request.

“Come on, get up,” you managed to stand, the mixture of drinks in your system getting the better of your judgement as you ordered your boss around. “Let’s go, big guy, you’re going to dance with me.”

His eyes gleamed playfully as he stood up, fingers reaching for your elbow just in case he needed to steady you on your feet. “Am I?”

“Damn right ya fuckin’ are, let’s go, chop chop.” Your hands clapped together, earning a burst of laughter from the man.

But true to his maturity, he ignored the drunken demands and went with you, helping you down the steps to the first floor.

“Hunter, nice to see you down - [Y/N], are you drunk already?” Charlotte gasped, lifting your chin as you shook your head no.

“I think she’s a lightweight,” Hunter grinned, pleasantly amused.

“I’m not a lightweight, but damn, is it getting hot in here.” You shook your jacket off your shoulders, handing it to Hunter.

Sasha appeared from the midst of the mob, grabbing you and pulling you towards the middle of the dance floor. “You, dancing, now,” she ordered.

Charlotte turned back to face Hunter. “You comin’, Hunter? We’ll dance with you, it’ll be fun.”

“No, you guys go on ahead. I need another drink, I’ll be at the bar.” His hands were fidgeting as he reached to unbutton another button from his shirt. Was it getting hot in here? He squared his shoulders, standing at the counter, one finger up to catch the attention of the bartender. He glanced back to the dance floor, his gaze steadying on you.

You were buzzing like nobody’s business, grinding all up on Sasha and Charlotte as they whooped and hollered, egging you on.

Hunter couldn’t seem to hold back a smile, as he saw you pull some moves he hadn’t seen in years. As you danced, his eyes gingerly darted away from your face and down to your body, staring at the sequined fabric rising higher up your thigh, the delicate way that your fingers grazed at your skin, the gleaming drops perspiring at the crevice between your breasts. God, you were doing things to him that you didn’t know and couldn’t understand.

He shuffled around, taking another sip of his drink, enjoying the burning sensation as the elixir ran down his throat. He growled, swallowing the feeling you elicited from him.

“I see you,” Alexa sang quietly, causing Hunter’s gaze to break from your skin. Had he been anyone else, he might have jumped at her voice. As it was, Triple H couldn’t be and was never caught off guard, at least not entirely.

“And I see you, Miss Bliss. Where had you gone off to?”

“Me?” She asked, the color rising in her cheeks. How easy it was to misdirect someone who had yet to come into her own. But he had a feeling he’d make a performer of her yet. “Oh, nowhere.”

She pulled her black choker higher up her throat, but not before he caught the crimson mark of a hickey at the crook of her neck and shoulder. “Of course,” he said as he raised a brow and his glass, “nowhere. You girls really need to learn how to lie better.”

She blushed again, scurrying away to find you and the rest of the girls.

He watched as she joined you at the start of a new song, your hips swaying to the gentler beat of the music, as your hands grazed the edges of your curves, drawing them closer up your body, and he could’ve sworn he saw you squeeze your breasts together, before raising your hands above your head. As if you were taunting him. As if you were knowingly flirting with him from across the room.

He shook his head at the thought, looking away. Impossible. Improbable. Ludicrous.

_No way in hell._

You were fucking wasted, and that was that. There was no way you were doing this with the intent to fluster him.

Or were you?

The phone in your jacket pocket began to buzz. Hunter looked at the caller ID. SAMI ZAYN. He wondered if he should answer, remembering what he had witnessed weeks before.

_Yeah, he thought, I’ll answer._

“Hello?”

“Hey, I - wait, you’re not [Y/N].” Sami sounded taken aback, stunned.

“No, Sami, it’s me, Hunter. I took her out for drinks. She’s on the dance floor right now, having the time of her life.” He left out the bit where the two of you were not alone.

“Oh, um, I wasn’t aware that - uh, never mind. C-could, could you tell her I called?”

“Sure thing, Sami. I’ll see you in couple days, right?”

“D-definitely, of course. See ya, boss.”

Hunter hung up the phone, deleted the call from Recents, and placed your phone back in your jacket pocket, his face hiding his thoughts.

He wasn’t going to tell you Sami called, and that was the end of it.


	3. Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up to find yourself somewhere…unknown. And that’s not the only surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Every time I stare into the sun_  
>  Tryin’ to find a reason to go on  
>  All I ever get is burned and blind  
>  Until the sky bleeds the pouring rain…
> 
> r.i.p. chris cornell

You woke up in a place that wasn’t yours and the unrelenting pain of a throbbing headache.

 _Where am I?_ You thought. Emma’s apartment? Sasha’s condo? It was hard to tell.

The curtains were closed across the wide balcony doors, and you were thankful for whomever had thought to close them. The Florida sun was unforgiving, but it couldn’t do much in the way of drapes or blankets of clouds.

There was a digital alarm clock on the wooden nightstand. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. 11:13, to be exact.

A beeping sound. The sizzling of meat. What meat, you didn’t know. But damn if it didn’t smell amazing. The sound of clattering pots and pans as someone fished for a specific size. The beeping came to a stop, the sound of a microwave opening and closing.

You peered through the open doorway, holding your head in agony. You couldn’t see anyone from there; the kitchen seemed to be behind the nearest wall.

“Bex?” You called hesitantly, still unsure whose apartment you were in. No answer.

“Alexa?” You tried, to the sound of silence.

You thought about it for a minute. It wasn’t any of the others, that was for certain. You’d been to Bayley’s loft before, and Charlotte lived in a small but luxurious house gifted to her by her father, and Emma’s apartment was smaller than this one.

 _Surely,_ you thought, as the gears clicked in your mind. _Surely not…?_

“Good morning, [Y/N]. How’d you sleep?”

The wide frame of Hunter Hearst Helmsley appeared from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was dressed in a casual way you’d never seen him in before, a black tee that hugged his frame and loose fitting, plaid pajama pants. Waiting for an answer, he held out the coffee mug, eyes telling you to take it.

“…Awful, thanks for asking.” You took a sip of the dark substance, pursing your lips at the bitter taste. It was black. No sugar.

“Oh, I apologize, I didn’t put anything in it. Wasn’t sure how much sugar you took in your coffee.” He passed you the ceramic jar of sugar and handed you a teaspoon, then turned back to what looked like strips of bacon sizzling on the stove behind him, as well as scrambled eggs on the neighboring stove top.

“Thank you. You didn’t even have to make me coffee.” You hastily dropped six spoonfuls of sugar into the steaming cup while he wasn’t looking, stirring anxiously.

This was insane. You were in Hunter’s apartment. Hunter. Your _boss._ What the fuck were you doing here?

You thought back, trying to shuffle through the memories of last night: Hunter had asked the women of NXT out for drinks to celebrate how well all of you were doing. You recalled Becky flirting with Ed, Sasha playing with Charlotte, Bayley’s wide eyes and embarrassed smile at being called upon to be Becky’s wing woman. Emma, chatting along with Alexa.

And Hunter…you remembered talking to him alone.

Shit…you didn’t? _No…no fucking way._

You bit your lip, contemplating it all. After extensive thinking, you figured the best thing to do was to burn your esophagus with coffee and be done with it, so you took another huge sip of coffee.

“Fuck.”

“[Y/N]?” Hunter was facing you now, concerned. “You all right?”

You struggled to speak as you fanned your seared tongue, panting violently. Of course this would happen to you.

But then of course, you were asking for it.

“Uhhh…” you started, a lisp faintly recognizable as your tongue began to swell, and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. Why were you _like_ this?

His lips curled up suddenly, for a brief moment, before his expression became serious again. He found your current condition amusing, you realized.

“Whath tho gothdamn funny?” You blurted out angrily. You gave yourself a mental kick in the ass for sounding so fucking stupid. The lisp was doing nothing to help your humorless inquiry.

“Nothing.” He responded quickly, turning away from you so that you wouldn’t see the smirk had reappeared on his face.

“Oh, you fuckin’ athhole,” your eyes narrowed at him. But just as you were about to unleash the floodgates of your fury, you felt a sharp pang on the side of your head, stopping you.

“Jeethuth fuck,” you sighed breathlessly, fingers probing at your forehead gingerly as you winced, “my brain.”

Hunter turned off the stove, grabbing the spatula and setting the bacon on a plate with a paper towel on top to soak up the excess grease. Guess that explained that, then. He looked good because he still took care of himself.

When he finished up with that, he grabbed two more plates, serving the both of you ample amounts of scrambled eggs. He poured you a glass of orange juice for good measure, and set a bottle of ibuprofen down next to your plate.

“For the headache,” he explained. “Take one or two once you’ve eaten your fill.”

The next few minutes were spent in silence as you picked at your food like a small six year old child, while he scarfed his eggs and bacon down like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. You stared at him, mortified, but dropped your gaze back down at your plate when he caught you.

And then…you frowned as you pinched the clothing covering your chest. An extra large black DX T-shirt that hardly covered your ass as you sat on the freezing cold stool. Just black panties underneath. Which means someone took off your dress…and your bra, last night.

You froze, feeling the intensity of his gaze on you, though you couldn’t see it. You swallowed nervously, picking up your fork and beginning to dig in with more enthusiasm as a million thoughts ran through your mind about the man in front of you.

You tried to remember it…how you got there. You took a sip of the orange juice, shunning the coffee to the edge of the island counter as far away from you as possible. With a bit of difficulty, you managed to pop open the bottle of pills and pour out two of them, tactfully keeping your eyes from his own. You placed the two pills on your tongue, and drank them with the orange juice.

_Your stifled, hiccoughing laughter echoed across the stairs. Your jacket was slung over his shoulder, and you were in Hunter’s arms, your arms dangling, hooked loosely around his thick neck. One of his hands wrapped around your back, fingers lightly pressing against your right breast, while the other hand held your legs close. They burned your bare skin, but your drunkenness didn’t seem to mind it at all._

“You carried me up here?”

He cleared his throat, nodding. “You were wasted, and no one knew where you lived.”

You cocked your head. “I could’ve gone to Sasha’s or Bayley’s.”

“You could’ve. But I didn’t want them to have to take care of you, not when they had training to do in the early morning.”

Your mouth gaped open in understanding. “Oh, right. Completely forgot about that.” You glanced over at the clock on the microwave door behind him. It was 11:55.

“Shit,” you stood up quickly, the stool scratching on the floor with a squeal. “My training class is at one. I gotta get home.” Flustered, you headed back into his bedroom, stopping at the doorframe when you realized this was his room and you had no right to barge into it. You looked back at him, silently asking for permission.

His arms were draped across the kitchen island looking as relaxed as any man could be, and he nodded in response.

You hopped into his room, tip-toeing around softly. Though you’d already been given approval, it still made you feel awkward. You observed there were no clothes on the floor, what he’d worn last night was thrown in a hamper in a corner of the room. Scanning further, you noticed an olive green chair beside the window, your dress and your bra draped over it delicately. You pulled the DX shirt up and over your head and picked up the bra to put it on.

In the other room, Hunter shifted on his feet, wondering to himself. _Chances are, she’s going to think I helped her with her clothing._ He tilted his head all the way back, eyes squinting at the ceiling, hoping to come up with some sort of story, in case you asked. I did, but she doesn’t need to know that. You didn’t know that when you came across the threshold of his Florida home and he set you down on his silk sheets that you called back out to him, begging him to help you pull down the zipper of your sequined dress. You didn’t know that he walked back, sighing exasperatedly and sat next to you on the bed and did as you pleaded. You didn’t know that you fumbled at the clips of your bra and proceeded to whine until he unclipped it for you. You didn’t know that he swallowed nervously, shying away from gazing at your beautiful body as his broad hands touched your soft, bare back fleetingly. That he went into his dresser drawer and grabbed the first shirt he found to cover your breasts from his view. That you giggled as he handed it to you, when you dropped it, _“oops, butterfingers!”_ That he draped the shirt over your shoulders blindly, walking quickly out of his own bedroom to catch his fucking breath.

That he had to beat one out in the shower as you slept deeply not one room away.

He was at the door to his bedroom knocking before you even realized it, causing you to jump in fright, whipping around to see if he had caught a view of your ass before you’d put his shirt back on.

“Hey, didn’t mean to scare you.” You couldn’t see him. He was politely waiting at the edge of the doorframe, his back against the outer wall. “I was just going to ask you if you wanted me to call you a cab.” His head turned towards you just a bit, in order to hear your reply.

“Um, yes please. That’d be great.” You picked up your jacket, fishing through the pockets for your phone. When you pulled it out, you were only mildly surprised to find it out of battery. “Typical,” you muttered.

*********

With your jacket tied around your waist to hide the fact that you weren’t exactly wearing pants, you stepped out of the towne car, shielding your eyes from the blaring light of the sun. The sunshine state had most definitely earned its sobriquet, and you’d only been here a couple weeks. You opened the gate to the apartments, enjoying the cooling shade of the wide trees in the courtyard. Some other day, you would have stopped there, sat on the bench below the shade and read a book you’d been meaning to catch up on. But today was a different matter. You needed to get to the performance center in twenty goddamn minutes.

You practically glided up the stairs, taking them two by two as you ascended to the second floor. Panting, you bent down, resting your hands on your knees as you took a deep breath. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that so quickly after eating, especially without warming up. Fuck, maybe your hangover wasn’t entirely gone, after all.

“Hey, [Y/N].” The soft, unassuming voice called out to you. Oh, no. Normally such a welcome would have made you smile. But all it did was make your stomach churn even more miserably. You looked up.

The most adorable ginger puppy to ever exist was sitting on your doorstep, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Sami?” your heart leapt into your throat. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I - uh, I just got back. From Canada.” He pulled you into a hug, holding it for a moment despite your obvious tension. Pulling away, his eyes roamed down to your legs, where he noticed them bare as day beneath the DX shirt you were wearing, and he rubbed at the back of his neck, a sign that he was uncomfortable. “Why are you half naked? Why is your dress in your hand?”

You scrounged for your keys, hoping to not have to deal with this conversation any longer. You didn’t like the idea of him finding out you’d been at Hunter’s. He’d end up putting two and two together and come to the wrong conclusion, because as far as you knew, you and Hunter hadn’t actually done a thing. So you changed the subject as you unlocked the door.

“I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week.” You said it like a question, hoping he’d take the bait and forget about why you were taking a walk of shame back to your apartment at almost one in the afternoon. Shuffling through your apartment, you dropped your keys off on the kitchen counter, passing through it to the living and then down the small hallway to your bedroom. You sensed Sami stop at the hallway as you burst through your room in a flurry, looking for your training bag and a set of gym clothes.

“Figured I’d been gone long enough. I visited my family, Kevin’s. Saw your mom. Everyone’s good.” He seemed to be edging closer, now leaning on the door frame to your room.

“You saw my mom?” You asked astonishedly, banging every dresser drawer in sight looking for the clothes you needed.

“Yeah, I did. Looked pretty happy to see me, actually. I don’t think I’ve seen her for, what, two years? Since I got signed to NXT.”

“She always did love you best. More than Kevin.” Finding the shirt and pants you were looking for, you pulled off the DX shirt and threw it onto the bed. God, why was this so stressful?

Sami blushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of your body or because of the compliment. He shook his head, turning away as he sat down at the foot of your bed. “What? No. No way.” Suddenly, his face brightened immensely, and he walked out of your bedroom for a few moments, before he came back in with a wrapped package. “I almost forgot. Your mom asked me to bring this back for you, to save on postage. It’s beavertails.”

“God, I’ve been craving those for weeks! _Merci,_ Sami.”

“ _Bienvenue,_ sweetheart.” Your heart skipped at his tender reply.

You caught his hand slowly gripping into a fist as he grasped the fabric of the DX shirt in his palm. Fuck, you thought. He sure had you on your toes, with all the feelings you’d felt from the moment you found him on your doorstep. He’s going to ask again.

“I’ve never seen you wear this shirt before.”

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat so irritatingly slowly. “Uh, yeah, it’s - it’s new.” You slipped on your pants, grabbing your training bag and slipping past Sami back into the living room, but of course he followed.

“Seems kinda big for you.” A pause. “You went out last night, dancing.”

A statement. An inquiry? Hard to tell. But you were so keen on making sure that he didn’t find out who you went with, that you didn’t stop to think exactly how the hell he knew about that.

“It’s for sleeping in; I like them big. And yeah, I did. With the girls. That’s why the dress.” It wasn’t a lie. You opened the door to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and place it in your bag. “What’s it matter?”

A look of hurt flashed on Sami’s face briefly, though you weren’t sure why. You were on your way out the door when you realized he was still inside. You turned back, waiting on him to come out as well. His eyebrows were still riddled with concern, as if there was something there that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something you were hiding. Something he knew you were hiding.

“Nothing. By any chance, did you check your phone this morning?”

“Oh, shit.” You ran back into your apartment, looking for the charger. Thank God he reminded you about your phone, or else it would have stayed dead till you got home at the end of the day. When you came back with it, Sami was standing there - eyes on the ground, a pensive, somber look on his face. “I’ll charge it when I get there. You coming with me to the PC?” you asked politely, still extremely unsure where the both of you stood.

You wanted it to go back to the way it was, but you’d have to find the right time to speak with him, when you weren’t running late for training. Not to mention the fact that he had caught you off guard and you hadn’t really rehearsed what you had planned to say to him yet. You needed to talk to Kevin again, for sure.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you. Want me to drive? That way I can drop you off so you can head to training and I’ll deal with parking.”

You flashed him a faint smile, throwing him the keys. “Sounds good, ginger. Now let’s go, before the sunshine blinds me to death.”

For what you’d expected when you found him, your first conversation with the man wasn’t that bad. In all sincerity, you’d expected a whole. Lot. Worse. It seemed to the both of you, that your friendship counted for something. Maybe…it wasn’t totally destroyed. You only hoped that you weren’t pushing him away too much. This wasn’t going to be an easy fix. You were toeing a fine line, and it killed you to do it.


	4. Ready, Set, Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sami and Kevin reunite. You and Bayley go out for lunch. Hunter isn’t surprised.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Kevin stood at the end of the hallway, mouth agape at the sight before him. Sami Zayn, his best friend, was at the Performance Center a week earlier than expected.

Sami grinned, a radiant smile on his face as his best friend walked towards him, pulling him into a huge bear hug that had him breathless by the time his toes touched the ground again. Their foreheads touched tenderly and they spoke in soft French to each other.

“Ugh, kill me!” You shouted, rolling your eyes, already turning the corner at light speed to head to your training class. Damned if this love fest was going to make you be late.

Kevin shook his head in the direction you ran off in. “Jealous.”

The corner of Sami’s mouth curled slightly, then dropped. Were you jealous? He highly doubted it. The entire ride to the PC had been the most awkward of his life, and Sami doubted you and he would spend time alone for a really long while. It seemed like you were trying to politely keep him at a distance, with your shy smiles and concerned looks, along with your very apparent lack of physical affection.

“Speaking of jealous,” Kevin continued, pulling Sami out of his thoughts, “I know you didn’t come back early from vacation just to get a head start on training.”

“Wha–?” Sami’s mouth opened in protest, voice raising in pitch quickly.

“–Save it, Zayn. I wasn’t born yesterday.” Kevin sighed, sitting down on a bench.

“Come on, Kevin. _Me,_ jealous?” Sami’s hand went to his chest in a dramatic gesture. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, “What makes you think I’m jealous? What would I even be jealous abou–”

“[Y/N] told me what happened.”

Sami’s face faltered. “Oh.”

“You mind telling me why the both of you felt it was okay to keep this a secret from me for the better part of two weeks, _best friend?”_

“I don’t – uh,” Sami responded with a gentle click of his tongue, “I guess it was just… an embarrassing situation for the both of us.”

Kevin could see the hurt in Sami’s eyes as he said it. Embarrassing. As if his love was something to be ashamed of. Kevin felt a small fit of anger bubbling from down deep. It wasn’t right, for Sami to be hurting this way.

“I get it. I do.” He sighed heavily. He looked back at Sami, whose eyes had dropped to the floor. “But there’s no reason for you to feel ashamed of it. You confessed your feelings to her, and she didn’t feel the same way. So what?”

“Did she tell you that?” Sami eyes darted back to Kevin’s, a sort of desperation to them. “What did you two talk about when she told you? What did she say? How does she—”

“Sami. Buddy. Relax. Look, I’m not going to mediate this if she’s not here. You want to know how she feels, talk to her.” Kevin stood, motioning for Sami to follow. “But in the meantime, while she’s busy, let’s have some fun. You and me, and a twenty by twenty.”

Kevin was right. If Sami wanted to know what you were thinking, it was only right to find out straight from the source. If he could even find you later. Because lord knows you planned on high-tailing it out of there before anyone knew you were gone.

Sami couldn’t help the grin on his face at the thought of being back in the ring. He shook all thoughts of you away, and went off in the direction of his best friend.

*********

“You sure are starving,” Bayley eyed you from behind her hamburger. She’d taken maybe two bites out of hers, and yours had two bites left at best. “Did you forget to eat breakfast this morning?” Her eyes were brightly amused, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips.

“I did get some breakfast, actually,” you mumbled, wiping at the edge of your mouth with a napkin, “Hun—” but you decided against mentioning his name. “Honey, could you ask the waiter for the check?”

“Okay,” she said, pushing herself up from her stool a bit to scan the restaurant for the waiter. It was a busy day, every table on the restaurant side taken, which is why they ended up at a small, elevated table near the bar. She finally flagged him down, calling him with a tiny squeak of “Sir? Can we please have the check?”

He nodded, asking her if she would also like a to-go box. She shook her head; you just liked to ask for the check very early. Once he was gone, Bayley turned back to you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten who you left with last night.”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows as you dabbed at your lips with a napkin, polishing off your food. You pretended not to know what she meant by that.

“[Y/N], we all watched Hunter drive away with you, drunk as a college frat boy on new year’s eve. And I know that you stayed over at his apartment.”

You eyed the last few of your fries, picking one up and dipping it (more like drowning it) in mayo and ketchup. “So?”

Bayley’s entire face shook in surprise. “So? So what happened, dummy? I need the lowdown!”

You waved her questions away. “Nothing happened. I slept at his apartment, and—”

“—Where in his apartment? His bed?”

“Wha—does it even matter?”

“Of course it does!” She reached across the small table, shaking you mercilessly. “This is a big deal. Don’t you realize what this means? No one knows where he lives, much less actually been there.”

“Yeah, but my being there was a complete accident,” you argued, “no one knew where I lived, either. So he let me stay the night.”

Bayley gave you the side eye like she didn’t believe a word you were saying, but didn’t push it. She instead took another bite of her burger, and another sip of her strawberry milkshake. Sami’s favorite.

“Apparently he tried to get me an uber, but I refused to specify where I lived,” you continued, a sudden jolt of guilt causing bullshit to spew out of your mouth, “it’s entirely my own drunk-ass fault that I ended up in his home.”

Another loud sip of her milkshake. Cock of her eyebrow. “Right. And nothing happened?”

Your lips formed a thin line. Did anything happen? You thought back through it again, to see if you could remember something, anything, that could clue you in on what happened last night after you and Hunter left the club.

_The incessant tapping of raindrops on the towne car. The impenetrable darkness of the night sky and the glowing of lights. Your fingers touching the glass, foggy from the coolness of the air within and the heat of the Florida rain. A melancholy guitar strumming along with the voice of a forlorn man._

_His thick fingers pressing into your thighs as you teased him with your body._

_“I bet you’re used to young women doing this,” you whispered, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you tilted your head back._

_“I’d imagine a man would get bored of life pretty quickly if he got used to something like that,” Hunter replied, giving you the most bittersweet smile you’d ever seen._

_“Good fucking answer, Mr. Helmsley.” You bit your lip, gazing at him with as much focus as your intoxicated mind could bear. You reached for one of his hands, guiding it higher up your trembling thigh until he could nearly feel the soft fabric of your panties beneath your dress. At this point, you didn’t care if he could practically hear your heartbeat racing, or the deep pulsing in your ears that matched the throbbing of the need between your thighs._

_All you wanted was his hands. His body. His touch._

“No,” you said aloud to the curious face of Bayley in front of you. “Nothing happened.”

*********

“Some fuckin’ drills you just put us through,” Kevin gasped, rolling out of the ring like a middle aged bear. Hands pulling at the apron, he lifted himself up and onto the metal fold out chair a few feet from the ring, watching Sami run the ropes a few more times.

“Gotta prepare,” was the only response Kevin got out of him, before Sami dropped down to the mat with a slap, as if to counter a wrestling shadow.

Kevin’s arm extended to a blue cooler filled with water bottles that was just out of his reach, the metal chair scraping against the concrete floor as he shifted. “A month and a half is more preparation than we’d ever need.”

Sami palmed his right eye, wiping away what bit of sweat dared slip into it. His other hand he held up in the air, signaling Kevin to toss him a bottle. He caught it deftly, twisting the plastic lid with a squeak and downing the bottle in seconds. Pulling the middle rope down to tumble his body through it, he landed expertly on the edge with his legs crossed. “Not if we want it to be perfect.”

“Don’t forget about your rematch with Neville, though. It’s a week from now.”

“I called him this morning. We’ve already talked out most of the big stuff, we just gotta get in the ring and do it. Gonna work on that one tomorrow.”

Kevin took another gulp from his water bottle. “Fair enough.” Leaning back, he looked up the ceiling, letting the silence settle between them for a few moments.

It was a test. To see what Sami would say in confidence. If there was even anything to say. Kevin remained quiet, finally earning the furrowing of auburn eyebrows that he knew so well.

“Not every day that Kevin Owens has nothing to say.”

“You caught me off guard,” he replied with a warm smile. “I usually plan my conversations with you three or four days in advance.” He threw a towel at Sami’s head, Sami’s hand barely catching it before it hit him in the face.

“Really? I’ll let you know next time,” Sami said, smiling back and wiping his face with the towel.

“Next time, huh?” Kevin pulled at wraps on his hands, the circular motion hypnotizing him into a welcomed serenity. “Why was there a first time? You gonna tell me why you’re actually here so early, or are you gonna keep that a secret, too?”

This time, Kevin caught him off guard. Slowly, Sami set the towel down on one knee, a feeling of anxiety washing over him like a bucket of ice water.

How was he going to tell Kevin that he came back on a whim because he heard Hunter’s voice, their boss, on [Y/N]’s phone? That in a fit of unrelenting jealousy, with a knot in his stomach, he drove his brother’s car all the way to Pierre Elliott Trudeau International at two o'clock in the morning and waited there for six hours until he could catch the first plane back to Florida?

He scoffed. Kevin would laugh at him. Even worse, he’d call him an idiot. Sami would never live it down.

 _No,_ Sami thought. _Let Kevin think what he wants. He already has the gist. There’s no point in clarifying._

“And here we have another one of our training gyms—oh, hello, boys.”

Sami looked up, heart spiking in a wrath he could barely control.

Hunter stood there with a group of young, athletic looking kids, probably a median age of twenty two. Their eyes were bright, looking over his shoulder at the state of the art training gym before them. Sami watched as their eyes traveled from the weights at one end of the room, to the punching bags on the other, impressionable eyes settling finally on the vets next to the ring. Probably the new developmental group.

“Hey, boss,” Kevin stood up, a professional smile gracing his lips as he took a few steps closer to Sami and running a soothing hand across his back. Sami hoped he wasn’t that obvious, but it seemed he was. His entire body bristled at the feeling of Kevin’s warm touch. “Look who showed up early.”

“I can see that,” Hunter’s eyes roamed from Kevin to Sami, no surprise in them whatsoever at Sami’s appearance. If Sami expected to rattle the man, he had no way of knowing if it had worked. “Glad to have you back.”

How he managed to flash a smile so sincere, Sami would never know. “Thanks, Hunter.”

“Oh, forgive me.” Hunter straightened his tie, a hand reaching for the first bright eyed talent within arm’s length. “Kids, this is Sami Zayn, our current NXT Champion,” he pointed at Sami as the young wrestlers waved, “and this is Kevin Owens.”

Kevin waved. “One name is more important than the other.” He earned chuckles and giggles with the jab, as well as a real jab from Sami himself.

“Dick.” More chuckles from the nervous talent.

Hunter took that as his cue to continue the tour, but he was honestly curious to find Sami here, though not entirely shocked.

_Let’s up the emotions a bit, shall we?_

“Kevin, could you do me a favor and give these kids the rest of the tour? I need to talk to Sami in private, since he’s here.”

Kev’s hand slipped from Sami’s back, but not before grazing Sami’s cheek in a playful manner. Sami flinched away, but he knew what Kevin meant by it. Keep your cool, dumbass.

Giving a silent nod to the boss man, Kevin motioned for the possible recruits to follow him, striking up a conversation with them to make them feel more comfortable.

“So,” Kevin said as he rubbed his hands together, “who wants to show me their best Dusty Rhodes impression?”

Hunter walked into the corner trainer’s office, shutting the door once Sami was inside.

“Good to see you, Sami,” Hunter began, arms extending to pull Sami into an embrace, as he usually did with his NXT children. Before, Sami had embraced him with just as much enthusiasm. But this time was different. Sami mumbled a thank you.

“How was your trip?” Hunter asked, rummaging the drawers for what was hidden there. When he found the scotch and glasses, he set them down on the desk, pouring one out for him and one for Sami.

“Fine.” Sami’s eyes conveyed a look of befuddlement before taking the drink in front of him.

“A toast,” Hunter said raising his glass. “To a very… dynamic, and purposeful championship reign. To a reign filled with high stakes, competition… and passion.”

Sami’s stomach rolled at the words. Competition. Passion. This really was just a game the man in front of him was playing; every action had a reason, every word and intonation had a hidden meaning. God, he wanted to punch the cocky half-smile right off Helmsley’s face. He raised his glass, clinking it with Hunter’s and downing it in one sitting.

“[Y/N] is going to be in a storyline with me.”

Of course, Sami had known about that by now. He’d seen the seeds planted in last week’s aired taping. But it pissed him off to hear it from the man himself.

“I heard about that.”

“I hope it won’t be a problem.”

Sami laughed, masking the anger he felt. _The audacity._ “No problems here, Hunter. Not at all.”

“You sure?”

Through gritted teeth: “Absolutely.”

“Good.” Hunter opened the door. “Adrian’s been missing you, kid. He’s been in a hell of a mood since you left.”

“Sounds about right. I’ll go see what he’s up to.”

He patted Sami on the back as Sami’s hand curled into a fist. “That’s my champ.” Without another word, Hunter was gone.

Just six months ago, Hunter was congratulating him on a groundbreaking performance against Antonio Cesaro. He had pulled Sami off to the side, and reminded him just exactly how proud he was. As proud as Sami’s own parents. As proud as family.

_Fuck, _Sami thought with a sigh of exasperation. Of all the people in the world, he never expected to make an enemy out of Hunter Hearst Helmsley.__


End file.
